


For the Better

by OliviaRose



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, This is crap I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:19:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaRose/pseuds/OliviaRose
Summary: She meets Obi-Wan for the first time when she’s fourteen, so it’s no wonder she feels the way that she does.





	For the Better

**Author's Note:**

> This is trash and I'm sorry.... Anyway

She meets Obi-Wan for the first time when she’s fourteen, so it’s no wonder she feels the way that she does. She knows little of the Jedi, but she’s very sure that not all of them look like that. He’s beautiful, and Sabé’s narrowed eyes tells her she’s not the only one who think so. The two girls exchange a glance, and a small smile. Padmé watched him intently, glad she didn’t have to play Queen for the next few moments. He catches her eyes on him, and flashes a quick smile.  
She’s sure that her blushing cheeks clash with the orange of her uniform.

He approaches her again on the ship, and formally introduces himself. She fears her shaking voice will give her way, so her answer comes quietly.  
“Padmé.” He kneels beside her, softer than she feels he should be.  
“And you work for the queen?” She nods, wishing there was more to say, or that any of her etiquette training had taught her how to still her shaking hands and slow her racing heart. She knew he could feel what was left unsaid, and the smirk on his face did nothing to help. He knelt next to her for a moment more, before getting up to leave.  
Suddenly, Padmé was very jealous of Sabé and the others for getting to stay behind. 

She could feel the confusion radiating off of him when she revealed herself, off of everyone really, but, importantly, off him.   
She was very aware of him during the battle, first of his proximity, and later, of his absence. She knew that he couldn’t be far, and why he couldn’t stay near.   
It’s a silly schoolgirl crush, Padmé.  
A silly crush intensified by the adrenaline of battle. The enemy was not aiming to maim, so she couldn’t afford to either. It was impossible to tell if she hit anyone, anything, as her blasts were disguised by a storm of identical others. For a moment, she can forget his blue eyes, and charming wit, and lose herself in the battle, Sabé’s hand pressed in hers as they ran.  
It’s tearful, when Obi-Wan returns, his master’s lightsaber clutched with white knuckles. She rushes to hug him, and he’s stiff, obviously unused to this form of affection. But, his arms are strong and in the aftermath of battle, that’s enough. The ride back to Coruscant is silent, and tense, goodbyes looming over everyone. 

It’s years before she sees him again, and she often finds her mind drifting during meetings, to far off planets, blue eyes and blue lightsabers. Sometimes she plays the part of a damsel in distress, sometimes he does. It doesn’t really matter, because it always ends with a kiss and the promise of another adventure.   
She’s often caught, by Sabé and the other handmaidens, and even Senator Palpatine or one of the others, staring off into space, wishing for a Jedi starship to part the clouds, and whisk her away. She’s jealous of the force sensitive children, who got to spend their days training alongside others like them, always with the prospect of a journey on the horizon.  
Sometimes, one of the handmaidens will sit with her, and spin stories long after the sky’s gone dark and the lights should’ve been dimmed. The next morning is always filled with giggles and tired eyes. 

It’s a novelty, at first, seeing Anakin as a grown man, if you could even call him that. There’s still so much of the starry eyed kid left in him. But Obi-Wan, he’s so different, and yet, Padmé’s sure she would've recognized him anywhere. He embraces her, or, moreso, she throws herself into his arms, laughing. He’s older now, bearded, but still, so beautiful.  
She finds herself lying, saying that she never imagined the Jedi council would send them, even though that had been the subject of her daydreams for the past ten years or so.  
It feels silly to lie to a Jedi, but she’s not even sure their powers cover that sort of thing.

Padmé has trouble falling asleep last night, and unlike Sabé, and some of the others, Dormé doesn’t share Padmé’s affections. She’s colder than the others, and much more focused on her job, but still, she sits with a starry eyed Padmé as she reminisces. The R2 unit in the corner is a much better conversationalist, and it beeps happily in response after Sabé retires for the night.   
The thought of the handsome Jedi sitting just outside her door keeps her heart hammering, but, at some point, she falls asleep.

It’s not like she’d thought it’d be. Of course it’s not. She hasn’t seen him in ten years, and in that she’s built him anew in her mind. But still, it’s a shock, and a disappointment. Anakin fills the role she was saving for Obi-Wan, but still, there’s something missing and nothing that she can do.   
Anakin sticks to the Jedi oath, but not in the way Obi-Wan has. Obi-Wan loves her, but not in the way Anakin does. 

So she lets herself be happy, she goes with Anakin, and she enjoys herself. He’s good, and kind, but still, he’s a kid. He’s beautiful, and kind, and he loves her, but she feels sorry for him, that she can’t stop seeing Obi-Wan, can’t avoid his hawkeye.  
And she doesn’t exactly want to.

It gets busy for a while. The boys are away, and the separatists are closing in on the senate. It’s easy to avoid feeling anything but stress.  
And then comes the morning sickness.   
She needs to tell someone, but the question becomes who? She knows there are people she can trust, but, still, who can she tell before Anakin.   
She sees Obi-Wan first, when they return. He looks tired, but he smiles, and steps aside as Anakin rushes towards her. She smiles, and braces herself.

There’s something to be said, for being the last face a person sees. His eyes are kind, he’s always been so kind. He’s crying, too, but the wails aren’t his. Two infants, her children, are in his arms, crying, reaching out. They’re reaching for her, for their father.  
Anakin.  
He’s gone, she knows he’s gone. The faint pressure around her neck is enough of her reminder.   
But Obi-Wan is here. He’s here, and he’s holding her son and her hand, and he’s crying. For her. For his friend. For her children.  
He’s here, and he always has been, and she just lets her eyes close, focusing on his hand, and the cooing of her daughter.


End file.
